A Woman Named Smith eBook

The young man’s glance came back to me.
I should hate to be untruthful, and have to meet so
straight a glance!

“Why, yes. It is impossible, and, like
all impossible things, perfectly true,” he agreed,
with the golden flecks dancing in and out of his eyes
and a slow and lazy smile, a sort of secret smile,
curving his beautiful, mocking mouth. “Fancy
finding Love, of all things, in Sophronisba’s
garden!” A fine black line of eyebrow went up
whimsically. “And now that you have found
him,” said Mr. Jelnik, “hadn’t you
better let me help you set him up?”

CHAPTER IV

THE HYNDSES OF HYNDS HOUSE

When the fine weather had taken the kinks out of Judge
Gatchell’s joints, he came to see us—­a
tall, thin, punctilious, saturnine old gentleman with
frosty Scotch eyes and the complexion of a pair of
washed khaki trousers. Chaos reigned in Hynds
House then, and he was forced to pick his way, like
an elderly and cautious cat, between piled-up chairs,
tables, and rolls of carpet. In the most stately
manner he parted the tails of his skirted coat, seated
himself upon the sofa, placed his hat beside him,
drew up the knees of his black broadcloth trousers,
took off and wiped his spectacles with great thoroughness
and deliberation upon a large silk handkerchief, replaced
them upon the middle of his Roman nose, cleared his
throat, pursed his lips, and drily but clearly talked
business.

Great-Aunt Sophronisba would have left a much larger
fortune had she been less addicted to lawsuits.
You wouldn’t think an old soul of almost a hundred
could find very much chance to brew mischief, would
you? You didn’t know Great-Aunt Sophronisba!

I was informed that the case of Scarlett vs.
Geddes had been automatically closed by the death
of the plaintiff; but I had inherited along
with Hynds House:

The case of Scarlett vs. The Vestry and Pastor
of St. Polycarp’s Church, from whom Mrs. Scarlett
sought to recover three paintings—­“Faith,”
“Hope,” and “Charity”—­which
her father had commissioned a visiting artist to paint,
and had then presented to St. Polycarp’s, with
the stipulation that they should “forever hang
in the sacred edifice, reminding the brethren of the
Cardinal Virtues of the Christian Religion.”

They did hang in the church for a century. Then,
when the Ladies’ Missionary Society was helping
“do over” the parsonage, a faded Faith,
a dulled Hope, and a fly-specked Charity were transported
thither. Whereupon suit was immediately brought
by the donor’s daughter, who averred that the
church had lost all right and title to the paintings
by an action directly contrary to her father’s
will, and insisted that they should be turned over
to herself as sole heiress. It was a nice little
case, and called forth an imposing array of counsel.
Mrs. Scarlett had added a codicil to her will, leaving
me her claim to the three paintings “fraudulently
withheld by the pastor and vestrymen of St. Polycarp’s
Church.”